"Yummy"
He fell on the berth as she came all over him. His claws were sharp. He was careful not to dig them into her flesh. He would be careful enough. He knew what she wanted at the moment. He was supposed to grab some sleep. She had actually advised him to do just that but she happened to be that who wouldn't avail him. He couldn't push her away. He couldn't ignore her. He couldn't resist. She was more than what she seemed to be. She wasn't only beautiful but enchanting. He wasn't so disciplined to ignore a lady of such make. And of course he did love her. He was actually confused. He didn't know who loves who more amongst the two of them. He wasn't sure if he did love her than she loved him or vice versa. But one thing he was damn sure about was the fact that he could kill for her. What had made him subdue the crazy Poseidon because of her. Hw would do everything to protect her. He would always be there for her. Those were the promises he did make to himself. And the first word he had said, he had no idea why he had said it.
She felt her lips with his nimbling. He quaked beneath her. Her taunting tits were ripping off his undauntedness. He knew that there were quite the numbers of things he would keep up with. He had no idea what she had done to the bleeding part of his body. It no longer bled. Was it when she did ride him or when she kissed? He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. Takes one who who's sane to think sane. He was no longer sane. Nemo day quod non habet. He simply couldn't give what he didn't have. And she was about to start another ride. He wasn't indifferent. He wouldn't stop her from ridding. She could do whatever she wished with him. She could decide to mar or make him. She did own him. She was the best thing he could ever think of. He was glad that he met her and they were together despite all the odds. Even when they used to be in the sky, in the arena of the god, he would spy her and trace the sway of her butts with his eerie eyes. Hell! They all belong to him at that moment.
She played her tongue skillfully in his mouth as he sucked their nectar. He wasn't going to give in easily. He was going to fight the urge and taunt her in return. She was simply taunting him. He was used to it. He wasn't sure if she would adapt. He caught her lips again and ploughed them harder. Twas his turn to be generous. He had been a farmer all his life and he did have to proof that. He needed no yoke or oxen to plough. His tongue and lips were the best machine for the task. She said something he couldn't make meaning of as he ploughed her deeper. Her land had been irrigated. He needed to plant some crops and harvest them immediately. He had no idea how to go about that but of course he was already on it. Even if he would need an alakazam to achieve it he would go for it. He would make his needs met. He bit her lower lip gently and moved dramatically under her. Her eyes were closed. She was deep into the abyss of the system. He was reaping what he had sown. His pleasure had watered the kiss.
He turned her over and got on her. Twas the time for the stray reaper to commence a hideous duty. He would catch her soul and toss it to the realm of passion. He knew she wouldn't have qualms about that. He ploughed her lips again as his erection brushed the tip of her well. She quaked easily and splitted her arms. She gave in to the reaper. He was done ploughing. He needed new options and new codes to adopt. He had been up for the business since forever and was acquainted with quite the numbers of things. He fiddle with her neck. Traced his tongue stylishly across the borders of her neck. She wasn't responding. She was still. He didn't know what that was for. Then she held his head again and sucked pleasure out of his mouth. She wouldn't let go, but he did taunt her again. His erection brushed the tip of the well again as she was left with no choice but to let him go. That was the wicked spin. He resumed his fiddling and travelled to her shoulders. She smelled like myrrh. She never quit smelling thus. Naturally, it shouldn't be tasted,but he couldn't help it. She was tasty.
He travelled inwardly. He was a tourist now. The time of a farmer and the reaper were gone. He would tour. And he was on it. He removed the piece of cloth hanging over the voluptuous boobs and sucked the two. He was a glutton. He wasn't actually one. There were quite the numbers of things he was glutinous about and the dean of them all were the tits. He could never ignore there call. He was never filled. As a tourist, he did see two grape fruits and did want to have a bite. He sucked the first. His hand on the second. He could suck them one after the other but he was afraid that they would no longer be there. He needed to have the best of them at the twinkling of an eye. He needed to torture her and taunt her with the tits that had been taunting him. He bit the nipples gently and traced his tongue across the bridge of the grapes. It tickled her and she quaked as though the berth would collapse. Twas a kinda punishment she enjoyed. He met her mouth again and was on his knees over her.
She bit his lips in rage of pleasure while he fiddle with her tongues. He removed his hood, what looked like trouser-skirt. His erection stood tall peering curiously what the emergency was for. He drove the curious peg into the well to fetch the gold he had gone on a tour for. His hands were on her boobs as he rode her mercilessly. She needed no mercy as she swayed rhythmically to rhythm of his erection. He was inside and outside her. His hands were squeezing the tits as though there were some useless tissue paper. Never again would they taunt him.
Amidst the pleasure, he looked into her eyes and was shocked. She had no retina anymore. Twas a Wolf's that was there. At that moment, her eyes looked like a Wolf's. Had she become a werewol too? Through sex? He would find out maybe 1 million years later. Pending the time he was done riding her and fetching the gold. She was on him now. Her large butts were all his erection. He would die.
"What would you say now? Ah!" He wasn't sure what was happening. How possible was it? He was in the bed getting laid quite the while ago. What was he doing in the depth of the waters chained? In the depth of the sea! How did he get there? Who transported him? He wasn't sure what was happening to him. Or was it some hallucinations which did complement sex with the daughter of the father of all gods? He didn't know what was happening. His thoughts eluded him. Twas quite better to say that his head was blank and was void. Well,darkness was oozing in the mental horizon. And he was humbly hoping that the light would come on. Come on and lit his instinct. Come on and shed a shred of its shade on his gloom. He needed to be sane for a while. Being insane wasn't an option. His hands were heavy. He was chained. His hands and legs separately, then together. He was chained such that, his hand were locked up, hi
[Quite the numbers of things to discuss now...] Aside from the tone of their skins, they looked more like humans. Or to say, they were humans. Like gods who were humans. The tone of their skin was glazed with ash and does have its stray. Everyone there was retaining the human form. They always were. Hardly would he see many of them take the form of wolves. Space shifting wasn't really a thing until they were faced with quite the battles or had reasons to fleshen their rage or suit their wishes. Sundry things did propel sundry reactions from each of them. He knew those he could count on. His father wasn't actually one of them. He had no idea why he was feeling so odd about him. An instinct loaned him the felon fact that he hated the fact that he was the Alpha. Probably he was jealous. He couldn't really be sure. He was making hypotheses. He hadn't made himself an Alpha. He had been made by the mates. His was not to turn the offer down. Was he
"Did you call that meeting or briefing?" Pelasgus moved aside as he sat. He had no idea why his father was being jumpy. There was no point in moving aside. There were different erected logs which he could sit on. He was being careful. Like he was girding his hampered heart for it. He knew what was going to happen anytime soon. His father's actions were not farfetched. He would throw garbage of words at him. But he had no digs to veil the odds and tame the taunting odors. He was ready for whatever twould take. He looked at him. What was that question for? He couldn't be sure. Was that to get on his nerve or bruise his authority? He wouldn't call that questioning his authority. He would rather it as assault. And he wouldn't take any form of assualt. He kept his rage in its cubicle. He didn't want to rend it. He could use pored patience. At least for the meantime. He was skeptical on what would be supp
"And who do we have here?" Kinda a sac was taken away from his head. Twas like a hood or something close to it. He tried to remember what had happened. He was making efforts to sweep the smithereens of memories into a whole and set the whole for a deal. He wasn't sure if that was the best thing. But obviously he wasn't sure what the best thing was or would be at that moment. His mental ken was widening and he was trying to think in vain. His throbbing thoughts were heaving sighs. He wanted to contain them but he wasn't sure how to go about that. He could never be sure. Why would he? Twas really happening too suddenly and he had no time to make meaning of the whole shit. He was being cautious what feeling to make of the present condition. He didn't want to make a stray ones which would mar him. He actually could make rage of it. But how bout if twas licked by the fiercer fury of whoever they were. He also c
"Been two days he's gone, what do we do?" Athena was acting a Luna for the time being. That was not supposed to be? Well! The pack rule was different there. Dribus, the elder brother or Pelasgus was supposed to be in charge. Pelasgus was no interested. He was yet trying to snap outta his shock and blows he had received from the attack. He was sure that so many of them had no idea what he was going through. So many would never trail a track of his own rage. Twas beyond getting hurt or falling. But being violated. His instinct was violated as well as his rage. He should be mad at everyone. Probably he should be mad at the wolves who were supposed to be the security. He had no idea what they were doing when they were attacked: himself and Lycaon, his son. Matter-of-factly, they just finished having a meeting that day. He remembered that the Rogue was taken away by the security. Probably he wouldn't be
"Come together y'all." He couldn't count them. He wasn't sure whether or not he could. The wolves were swaying towards them. Were they the wolves Lycaon talked about? He couldn't be sure. His heart was in his mouth. He obviously was the eldest, and the mates, even the pack was in his palms. He would tell what would be or not. Whatever he say would be the intiator of whatever they were supposed to be. Whatever their fates was supposed to be. He didn't have much time to think. There was nothing to think. He knew he was too weak for it. He looked towards Pelasgus, he simply wasn't interested. Twas littered all over his face. He didn't hide it. He had no idea what had become of his brother. He didn't use to be like that. He used to be great. He used to be a man of valour. He used to be a dean of affluence. He used to champion courses back then in the agora of the gods. Lycaon had simply ta
"Unnrgnh." He flipped his eyes open like the pages of a book. He couldn't say if twas whether or not crumpled pages littered with cringes. His eyes yet were heavy. He wanted to close them again. Pulpy pleasure fiddled with his instinct. He knew that he had no power over that feeling. Even if he did have power over it, he wasn't sure how long he would have to trail the odds. A part of him wanted him awake, but he wasn't sure whether or not he would put up with it and brace its leaning expectations. His eyelids did skip like gazelle. He didn't know what to think. The whooshing of the wind was tantamount to the crooning of a mass choir. He wasn't sure where he was. His instinct was sweeping ideas into a whole. Confetti of wishes were blown by the tempest of his curiosity. He didn't know the odds of the occurrence. He had no idea of the odds of his present state. He didn't want to nurse odd though
"I ain't dead, bitch. Who the fuck are you?" He muttered. Even the stray wind could not make meaning of what he had said. He tried to turn again, and again was a thud on the eerie earth. Callous earth obviously was pawning his rage. He knew that and wasn't pleased. Who would be? He let his rusty rage subside as he dumped all the odd thoughts. He could use the thoughts which had been trained by time. He was conscious of what to think. His thoughts were seasoned. He was relating. It had started hardly in the first place, but at that moment, he was getting acquainted with the odds. He knew that twouldnt take him forever to stand on his feet. He just needed to figure out how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to make odds of the even. Beg your pardon, make even of the odds. The pain seemed to be easing. He knew everything would be alright. He knew that things probably would return to how